The Big Decision

If Rachel doesn’t want to move, then she needs to just up and say it. I know it’s not the best time of year, but we still have time, and we’re not even hosting this year. Plus we’ll be off work, more time to get things sorted, and I’m already looking into conveyancers in nearby Mentone so we won’t have to travel.

But none of that really means anything if she won’t just come out and say that she doesn’t want to move. I’m only about 80% sure, which is maddening. I know that I, myself, want to move, but marriage is all about making compromises. Thing is, they never really tell you which way to compromise. That part you’re supposed to work out by yourself on a case-by-case basis, I guess.

Rachel has given me a wish-list of things she’d like included in our next home…that’s fair enough, and it shows some commitment. But she just doesn’t seem happy with any of the conveyancers we’ve talked to, and none of her reasons are good. ‘The office was too air-conditioned; I don’t trust anyone who can work in conditions that cold.’ ‘There were phones going off all the time; they’re obviously distracted.’ ‘I could see the remnants of a feature wall; it’s obvious that this is just a converted home and not a real office.’

And let’s not forget my favourite: ‘They corresponded too quickly; they can’t have even put much work into it!’

This is deflection, right? I am looking at deflection. But then one day she’ll just start complaining about some aspect of where we live, something that specifically made it onto her list, and we’re back to square one. No one could have this many objections to conveyancers and remain true to the cause of moving house. But now I’m looking for conveyancers near Prahran, pretty much knowing that they’ll be rejected because the carpet is too red and it reminds Rachel of blood and it makes her nervous. Just you wait. We’ll still be here next year.